“I don’t see what all the fuss is about,” said Grandmother Spirit. She took a celery stick from the refreshment tray and crunched into it. “How else was I to send Begonia to save the emperor without causing Alfalfa to fall in love with Lightfoot, and vice versa?”
“But Alfalfa had never even met Lightfoot!” Begonia realized how silly that sounded.
Grandmother Spirit smiled. “In my day, dear, we were partial to arranged marriages. A simple love charm was all it took. But sometimes, all you need to do is meet.” She winked at Tree and Song, who had both fallen asleep on the couch, with the baby nestled in Song’s arms. “And then, you just know.”
“Applesauce!” Mumsy covered Begonia’s ears. “Don’t fill my daughter’s head with nonsense. And shame on you! Begonia’s young. She should be home with her mother!”
“See?” Grandmother Spirit took another bite of celery. “If I’d asked your permission, you would’ve said no. So I had to send the cow.”
“That’s kidnapping,” cried Mumsy.
“Borrowing,” said Grandmother Spirit.
“Weren’t you ever a mother?”
“I had every intention of giving her back.”
Key licked sauce off his fingers. “Excuse me,” he said. “Which of you sent me to help?”
Grandmother Spirit and Grandfather Spirit looked at each other briefly, then shook their heads.
“You, young man,” said Grandfather Spirit, “weren’t in our plans.”
Key’s face fell.
“You were a bonus,” Begonia said stoutly. Key’s grin filled the room, and his slouch transformed into a tall, proud strut. Much like Lightfoot. Uh-oh, thought Begonia.
Chrysanthemumsy rose wearily. “Come on, Begonia,” she said. “Let’s find a place to sleep. In the morning, we’ll go home.” She nodded to Grandmother Spirit. “You won’t free Alfalfa from this strange affection for the ostrich?”
“True love.” Grandmother Spirit spread her hands wide. “My hands are tied.”
“Then you’re a cow thief,” Mumsy muttered.
“Borrowing,” sang Grandmother Spirit.
“Hmph.”
While the mother and the grandmother spirit squabbled, Lumi sat down on the bed next to Stormcloud and tentatively reached out to pet her. She flicked her tail, then looked away, but allowed him to stroke her soft gray fur.
“I never knew you liked cats, Lumi,” Begonia said.
Grandmother Spirit’s ears caught this. “One can’t afford not to like cats,” she warned, “and you’d do well to remember that, young man. Emperors need all the luck they can get, and cats are the luckiest creatures I know. Well, perhaps next to ostriches and cows.”
Lumi looked up from the purring kitty. “I’m sorry to deprive you of your cow, madam,” he told Mumsy. “If I may, I’d like to give you a cow with a calf. Then you’ll have to come back for a visit, to reunite Alfalfa’s calf with her mother.” He looked hesitantly at Begonia. “Perhaps you would like to pay a visit to the menagerie when you return?”
Begonia curtseyed. “I’d like that.” Then she paused. “Does it have any panthers?”
Lumi smiled. It changed his appearance so completely that Begonia took a step back.
“Lumi,” she said, “I think you will learn to be a good emperor.”
He bit his lip. “I hope so,” he said quietly. “But I’m afraid.”
“Don’t be. You can do it,” she said. She grinned. “You’re nothing like the selfish brat you were when we first met you.”
“But what if, when they give me the scepter, I become that person again?” Lumi asked.
Grandmother Spirit elbowed Grandfather Spirit. “Listen to that,” she cooed. “He’s learning, the dear boy. He’ll make you proud yet.” Grandfather Spirit rolled his eyes.
An idea fizzed into Begonia’s brain. “Keep Key close at hand,” she suggested. Key looked up from the refreshment table with a clump of noodles dangling from his mouth that wiggled like a sea creature. “He’s a Reminder of The Kind of Person One Wants to Be. And besides,” she said, “you have a new opening in your staff of butlers. His cousin can train him.” They glanced over at Shoe, the Imperial Butler, snoring facedown on a cushion.
She turned again to the once and future emperor. “Lumi,” she said. “I mean, Your Emperor-ness. You said you weren’t allowed to reveal your name. Isn’t Lumi your name?”
Lumi looked away. “In a way. But not really.”
“His name,” said Grandfather Spirit sternly, “is Emperor Gowli the Seventh.”
“Ohhh,” Begonia said slowly. “I see.”
“My mother called me Lumi when I was very young,” said Emperor Gowli the Seventh.
“Why?” asked Key.
The emperor stared at his toes. “It’s short for Luminous Child of Heavenly Perfections.”
Begonia decided to be kind. “That’s very sweet. I’m sure you were.” She reached for a cherry tart. “And it explains a lot.”
And that’s when Poka walked into the room.
33
A COMIC PERFORMANCE, AND A FAREWELL TO THE CARNIVAL
An assistant butler ushered him into the Imperial Bedchamber.
“Mr. Poka, of Poka’s Carnival of Curiosities, begs audience with the emperor.”
“Greetings, folks and carnival-goers,” Poka said, “I was told I could find the emperor here.” He gasped. “My postrich!”
“You!” cried Begonia.
Poka headed straight for Lightfoot. “Thank you, noble friends, for finding my beautiful bird for me! Our carnival isn’t complete without him.”
“Why, you lying thief!” Begonia cried. “That’s Lumi’s ostrich!”
Poka saw Begonia then, and recognition flashed across his face. He composed himself quickly, and smiled indulgently at Begonia. “This is my niece,” he explained to the room at large. “She’s a bit … deranged. Unstable. But I’ve looked after her, poor thing, ever since her parents died when she was a baby.”
“Liar!” cried Key. “We’d never met him before yesterday. He kidnapped us both.”
Poka searched the room for someone who looked as though they were in charge. He settled on the chancellor.
“Sir,” he said, “my carnival came to Lotus City to perform for the former emperor’s birthday, may he rest in blessed harmony with his ancestors. I’ve come to offer the exalted new chancellor—that is, emperor, very soon—a special carnival performance for his upcoming scepter ceremony.”
The chancellor’s eyes twinkled. He looked to Lumi, who folded his arms across his chest, only just remembering in the nick of time that he needed at least one hand to hold up his trousers. The sneer on his face reminded Begonia of the Lumi she’d first met in the woods. “There’s been a change of plans,” Lumi informed Poka. “No carnival will be desired at today’s festivities.”
Poka recognized Lumi then. He squealed and ran around behind Master Mapmaker, using his body as a shield.
“Venerable elder,” he cried, “save me from that dangerous person! It is he who stole my postrich from me. He’s the one who kidnapped and murdered the emperor!”
“You don’t say!” Grandmother Spirit’s eyes twinkled. “Here. Try a taste of my mustard.”
“Mmph!” Poka’s reply was muffled by a large wooden spoon of mustard poked into his mouth. Then the spices hit his tongue, and he began hopping about in agony. “Hoo! Hah! Owwowow! Wah—wah—water!”
Alfalfa nudged him, and he landed hard on the seat of his bright red trousers in a goldfish pool. Still panting, he plunged his face, tall hat and all, into the water.
“That’s the pool the animals drank from,” Key whispered to Begonia. She giggled.
Poka staggered to his feet. Water streamed down his face, over his striped waistcoat, and down his legs, filling his shiny boots. He glared at Begonia and Key’s laughter.
“Rest assured,” he said darkly, “that the new emperor will be informed of the insulting way I was treated by each of y
ou.”
Lumi nodded. “I’m sure the emperor—Oh! I said it!—will avenge you swiftly.”
“Well done. You said ‘emperor.’ Idiot!” Poka sneered. “My postrich and I are leaving.” With a speed Begonia wouldn’t have guessed he could muster, Poka pulled a leather leash from his pocket, clipped it around Lightfoot’s neck, and tugged him halfway across the room.
“Hands off him!” screamed Lumi. He took a running start and jumped, his arms and legs clawing the air. “That’s—my—BIRD!” With each word he bounced from one springy couch to another, vaulting the room until—and Begonia wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it—he landed, kersplat, atop the fleeing Poka and flattened him to the floor.
Grandfather Spirit turned triumphantly to Grandmother Spirit. “That’s the fighting spirit! That’s an emperor who can lead his troops into battle!”
Grandmother Spirit gave Grandfather Spirit a peck on the cheek. “If you say so.”
Poka rose, disentangling himself from the angry ball of legs and fallen pants that held him captive. “See how this violent person assaulted me without cause?”
Grandfather Spirit adjusted Master Mapmaker’s round spectacles on his nose. “Well, now. It does seem you are entitled to some justice.”
“I should say so.” Poka made a brave attempt to salvage his flattened hat.
“That person”—Grandmother Spirit pointed to Lumi, who was struggling to stand and losing the Battle of the Trousers—“seems to think the bird belongs to him.”
“He’s a violent lunatic,” Poka said. “He belongs in the dungeons.” He looked about the room. “If none of you can see reason, I appeal to the emperor himself.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” Begonia struggled to keep a straight face.
Poka turned toward Grandmother Spirit and Grandfather Spirit. “I beg you, venerable elders,” he said. “My carnival isn’t complete without its postrich. The people of Camellion need a carnival to bring them joy and laughter, and what’s more comical than these huge birds? I ask you!”
He flapped out his arms, pretending they were ostrich wings, stuck out his bottom, and waddled around, bobbing his head in a gifted impression of Lightfoot’s ostrichy gait.
Everyone in the room laughed. Poka, ever the entertainer, forgot to be angry and hammed up his act even more.
Grandfather Spirit looked at Grandmother Spirit. “Should we?”
“We shouldn’t.” She winked at Begonia. “But I won’t tell if you won’t.”
“Mr. Poka, sir,” Grandfather Spirit called. “Have you any family?”
“None at all,” said Poka.
“Except your niece, you mean,” Begonia said wickedly.
“In that case, we agree with you,” Grandfather Spirit called to Poka. “Your carnival desperately needs a ‘postrich.’”
And with a snap of both ancestors’ fingers, the proprietor of Poka’s Carnival of Curiosities disappeared in a puff of red smoke. In his place stood a tall, handsome male ostrich, waddling and bobbing just as Poka had done.
Until Lightfoot saw him. A rival for Alfalfa’s affections! He raised his wings in warning, hooted his battle cry, and charged the new “postrich” until it fled the room.
34
ONE MORE JOURNEY, AND PARTING GIFTS
“Mumsy?” said Begonia.
“Yes, my dear?”
“I have a favor to ask you.”
“I’m listening.”
They walked along the highway, each leading a cow by a rope. Chrysanthemumsy led a two-year-old milker, whom she’d decided to call Clover, and Begonia led Clover’s calf, now named Corn. Corn wore the brass bell that the Seller of Many Things had given Begonia. It tinkled in the morning air. Stormcloud the cat had taken up a perch on Clover’s neck and lounged there like a queen riding on her elephant.
“Well?” Mumsy prompted her.
“I’d like to be the one to name the sheep.” Begonia bit her lip and waited for a reply.
“Oh?”
They turned to see Key, many paces behind, struggling to pull along the path two playful young ewes, one white and one black. Their lead ropes tangled as they capered.
Chrysanthemumsy turned back to Begonia. “What will you call them?”
Her daughter grinned. “Salt and Pepper.”
“My goodness.” Chrysanthemumsy smiled. “Spices instead of plants. That will take some getting used to.”
Begonia bit into a juicy pear from the basket the kitchen chefs had packed them.
“Although…” Mumsy mused, “pepper is a plant…”
“I can’t wait to tell Peony all that’s happened,” Begonia said. “She’ll never believe it.”
“You’ll be quite the celebrity in her eyes now, having saved the empire.” Mumsy winked at Begonia and pulled a sticky bun from the basket. “I’m glad Grandfather Spirit sent a message to let her know we were on our way home.” She paused to swallow. “I expect she and Grandmother Flummox must have been terribly frightened when I didn’t return.”
“Were you frightened when I didn’t come back that first night?” Begonia asked.
Mumsy pulled her close and kissed the crown of her daughter’s head. Thank heavens she’d finally had a bath last night at the palace! Her hair was clean at last.
Their party had taken a merry leave of the palace that morning. The chancellor, Shoe the butler, and all the servants in the palace had gathered around to see them on their way, urging them to return soon. No one, however, wished for this more than Emperor Gowli the Seventh.
Tree, Song, and the baby accompanied them until they reached their cottage. Tree carried the baby the entire way. He sang loud, boisterous, and slightly naughty woodcutting songs, which made the baby laugh till tears streamed down his fat cheeks. Begonia, if she’d had to place a bet on it, couldn’t have said who was happier, Song or Tree.
“I think Tree will make a fine father, don’t you?” she said.
Mumsy smiled. “I wish them all the luck in the world. When we get home, let’s make them a quilt as a wedding gift.”
Begonia nodded. “We can take it to them when we take Key and Sprout back to Lotus City.” She tossed her pear core to an expectant squirrel. “Oh! We’ll take Peony, too, and show her the palace. She’ll love that. I’ll braid her hair up specially.”
Mumsy smiled at that. “You know, Begonia,” she said, “I think the emperor is going to miss you. You and Key just might be his first real friends.”
“I’ll miss him, too,” Begonia said. “Though I have a feeling that in the future, the emperor will take a more active interest in the smaller towns and villages in Camellion. I’ll bet he’ll travel around more to see how things are going.”
“Riding in on his ostrich, spreading truth and justice?” asked Mumsy.
Begonia grinned. “Something like that.”
“Tell me more about your other new friend. Young Master Key.”
They turned back to look at him. His arms formed an X across his body as Salt pulled toward the clover on one side of the road, and Pepper lunged for some daisies on the other side. He, too, had enjoyed a bath at the palace, and a feast of meatballs and noodle soup, and a night’s sleep in a guest bedchamber. His bed pillows, however, hadn’t survived the ordeal in top condition. Even now, Key’s hair was so full of feathers he looked like a molting seagull.
“I think,” Begonia said slowly, “that Key is like hot mustard. He takes a lot of getting used to.”
Mumsy poked Begonia with her elbow. “I adore hot mustard.”
“It has its uses.” Begonia laughed. “Poor Poka.”
Begonia turned back to watch Key nearly topple over from being tangled up with the sheep. “Key may never want to leave us,” she warned her mother. “I think he envies me, just a little, for having the family I’ve got.” She slipped her arm around her mother’s waist. “I’m glad he’s found Shoe. He has family that wants him now. But I’m not sure Key will ever look the part of a pal
ace butler.”
Mumsy nodded. “He does seem to have an owl growing out of his head. Well, he’s welcome to stay as long as he likes. I owe that boy a great deal.”
“The thing I think he wants most,” Begonia said with a smile, “is home-cooked meals. Meatballs especially.”
They came to the crossroads where Begonia had first met Song and her baby. She pointed out to her mother the purple flowering bush where she’d first met Key. Just then, Salt and Pepper gamboled forward and got their lead ropes tangled up in Clover’s legs. Mumsy went back to help Key disentangle their animals, while Begonia wandered slowly on ahead.
Suddenly, she wasn’t alone. A mustard cart that wasn’t there before rattled beside her.
Begonia grinned. “Hello, Grandmother Spirit.”
“Hello, dearie.” Grandmother Spirit’s mustard-maker face crinkled affectionately.
They walked along in silence for a while. Begonia waited for Grandmother Spirit to say something, but she didn’t. Begonia wondered if she should supply the conversation, but what does one say to an ancient spirit, an honored ancestor, worshipped in temples throughout the empire? Ancestors, she considered, were nothing at all like she thought they were.
“Go ahead, dearie,” said Grandmother Spirit. “Ask me the question you want answered.”
Begonia looked up in surprise. “What question?”
Grandmother Spirit gazed deep into Begonia’s eyes. Oh. That question. The one she’d lain up thinking about last night in her palace bedroom, long after Mumsy had fallen asleep.
Begonia stared at her feet. “It seems you know what it is,” she said, “so there’s not much point in my asking, is there?”
“Don’t be a goose,” scolded Grandmother Spirit. “Ask. It’s what I’m here for. You can always, always ask. Remember that, my girl. Your whole life long, whoever you’re with, whatever your question. Ask it.”
“I’ll try.” Begonia tried to think. “Why did everyone see something different in Alfalfa’s spot? Was it because you put a charm on her?”
Grandmother Spirit’s eyes twinkled. “I had a bit of fun with that,” she said, “but yes, it was the charm that did the trick.” She tapped Begonia twice on the forehead. “But that, my girl, is not your question.”